A Hogwarts Reunion: A Cliché with a Twist!
by Aly Delacour
Summary: It's been overused so many times that it's painful. Read on and see if this one is any different! Five years after Voldemort's death, old friends meet and reminisce about those they have lost.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter leaned back in his plush leather chair and stretched indulgently. He sighed with relief, glancing at the mountain of files he had just finished updating. No one had mentioned that becoming an Auror would involve so much paperwork. Harry had a secretary at his office at the Ministry of Magic, however she could only handle so much of the work: many of the files contained information that was only privy to qualified Aurors such as himself.

_Harry Potter, a qualified Auror_, he thought to himself, a smile creeping onto his face. It had been almost two years since Harry had completed his training, but he still felt a swoop of pride in his stomach when he thought about it.

Feeling slightly reckless, Harry swung his feet up onto the huge mahogany desk that took up most of his study. Jammed into the remaining space was an enchanted filing cabinet (it would produce the desired file when Harry spoke the name) and an assortment of contraptions Harry had been given by Mad Eye Moody during his Auror training (although Harry barely knew what most of them were for). The desk, like the rest of the room, was a little chaotic, littered with discarded quills, untidy piles of paper and empty pots of ink. Several frames, bearing photographs of Harry's friends grinning and waving, were displayed haphazardly amongst the mess, along with a number of birthday cards adorned with moving images and the words _Happy 23rd Birthday, Harry!_

Harry daydreamed as he stared out of the window. It was rare to have a moment to himself, and he let his mind wander as he watched the rain splatter on the window. He absently watched a droplet as it wound its way down the pane, joining other droplets as it travelled until it reached the bottom as one large drip and rolled off the window ledge.

The peace and quiet was too good to last. There was a knock at the door. Harry jumped, then quickly composed himself.

'Come in!' he called

A small creature with bat-like ears, a long nose and enormous eyes entered the room.

'Sorry to disturb you, Mister Potter, sir, but an owl has just arrived with letter from Hogwarts. Dobby did not think Mister Potter would want me to wait to deliver it to him'

Harry's heart lifted as the house elf handed him a square of neatly folded parchment bearing the familiar Hogwarts seal. He had a feeling he knew what this letter would be

'Thanks, Dobby,' Harry said cheerfully. Dobby bowed and backed out of the room, closing the door silently.

Harry smiled when he remembered the day he had invited Dobby to leave Hogwarts to work for him. Despite the fact that Dobby had loved working at Hogwarts (after all, it was his first 'real' job with actual pay) he had looked as though he might burst with glee at the offer to work for his beloved Harry Potter.

Harry unfolded the letter.

_Mr. H. Potter_

_21 Rose Tree Lane_

_Godric's Hollow_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_It is with great pleasure that I announce that Hogwarts will be holding a reunion for all former pupils and staff on the evening of Saturday 20th August. The festivities will begin at seven o'clock in the Great Hall and dinner shall be served at eight o'clock sharp. _

_I sincerely hope that you and a guest will be able to attend what I expect to be a wonderful evening._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Head Mistress_

Harry felt a flicker of nerves in his stomach. He had known plans for this reunion were in the works. After all, part of his job as an Auror involved Hogwarts security, and so he was in regular contact with the staff. School security may not be as much of an issue now as it was five years ago during that awful time, but it was still high on the list of priorities for the Ministry.

Still, it was not often that Harry actually set foot in the building, and each time brought back such chilling memories. So much of the horror from the final years of Voldemort's reign of terror took place at Hogwarts. But even memories of his happiest moments at school were tinged with sadness after losing many of the people who contributed to those times.

_Snap out of it, Potter, _he told himself. Those days were over. Harry was happy now. His life had settled down. With Voldemort out of the picture, people were not half as interested in what 'The Chosen One' got up to, so he was finally left in peace by acid-quilled journalists. He loved his job, he had fantastic friends in his colleagues, and, recently, he had a beautiful girlfriend.

A smile crept onto Harry's face at the thought of Kate, a witch he had met through a fellow Auror and who worked at St. Mungo's as a Healer. Kate had been a Hogwarts student too, several years ahead of Harry, and a Hufflepuff. Harry did not remember her at all, although Kate had obviously been aware of famous Harry Potter, 'The Boy Who Lived,' attending her school.

From the moment Harry met her, Kate had him transfixed. There was an aura about her which had reduced him to a stuttering, gibbering wreck – Harry would almost have sworn she had some Veela blood in her. Even now, two months on, he could not remember a moment when her presence had not created butterflies in his stomach. Without the bullying of his friends, Harry doubted whether he would have ever plucked up the courage to say hello, let alone ask her out.

Harry sighed. Kate was beautiful, yes, but it did not explain why it was quite so hard for him to relax around her. They had so much in common, after all. Plus, from her job at St, Mungo's, she had experienced the full brunt of the devastation Lord Voldemort spread and could understand it in a way not many people did. She had also experienced first hand what it was like to lose friends to Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Friends who were closer than even blood relatives.

For the second time that day, Harry found his thoughts straying to the past. One particular memory floated to the front of his mind. Harry recalled the day of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour's wedding, during the summer after his sixth year at Hogwarts. It was one of the last happy memories Harry had of his friends all together.

_It was a gorgeously warm day, absolutely perfect for a wedding. Harry sat contentedly in the sunshine, feeling completely stuffed from the delicious meal. He was feeling slightly sleepy after his first ever taste of Firewhisky, and he struggled to keep his eyes from slipping shut. Next to him, Fred and George were chatting animatedly about the latest addition to the _Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes_ line._

'_So what do you say,' George said, lazily, turning to Ron. 'You coming on board with us next year?'_

_Ron was sprawled on his back, propped up on his elbows. Hermione was leaning against his knees, reading. Every so often Ron would whisper in her ear, they would giggle, and Hermione would twist around and kiss him. Harry, though delighted to see his friends finally together, tried not to watch. It was becoming ever so slightly nauseating._

'_Really? You want me to work for you?' Ron asked his brothers, wide-eyed._

'_With us, Ron, with us,' Fred corrected. 'After all, we're going to need somebody to head up the shop we're buying in Diagon Alley, and who better than our own flesh and blood? Unless you have other plans?'_

_Ron shook his head vehemently. 'That sounds brilliant!'_

'_What about me?' Ginny interjected. She was lying on her front, playing with her pygmy puff, Arnold._

'_You will still have another year of school left after this one, little sis,' Fred told her._

_Ginny snorted and muttered something that sounded to Harry like 'Not much point in going back.' Harry knew Ginny was worried about her O.W.L. results. With everything that had happened at the end of term, Harry was not surprised she had been distracted from her studies. He felt a twinge of pity for her and wished he could do something, _anything_, to make her feel better. But it was no longer his place to comfort her. That part of Ginny's life had stopped being part of his when he broke up with her a few weeks ago._

'_What about you, Hermione?' Fred enquired. 'What are you going to do after Hogwarts?_

'_Well, look, don't laugh,' Hermione began, looking embarrassed, 'But I thought I might go to Oxford.'_

_She was met with blank looks from the Weasley siblings, but Harry stared at her incredulously._

'_You want to go to muggle university?' he asked incredulously. One of the twins snorted._

'_Hermione, I always knew you were a bookworm but that just takes the biscuit!' George laughed. 'Any excuse to carry on studying!'_

'_Well, it was my ambition when I was a little girl,' she said quickly, blushing furiously._

'_What, you were thinking about university when you were four?' Fred teased. Hermione ignored him._

'_It was where my parents both studied, and they always wanted me to go there too,' she explained proudly. 'Of course, things were different once we found out I was a witch. But still, it would be nice to fulfil their dream. And my dream, of course.' Hermione smiled shyly._

'_But how will you apply?' Harry asked, slowly. 'Last I heard, muggle universities didn't recognise N.E.W.T.s!'_

_Hermione, of course, had thought of everything._

'_I'll go to a sixth form college and take A-Levels first,' she answered briskly._

'_Muggle exams,' she added quickly as Fred opened his mouth to ask._

_Ron kissed Hermione on the top of her head._

'_I think it's a great idea, Hermione,' he told her. Hermione giggled girlishly and lifted up her head to kiss Ron. _

_Turning away from them in disgust, Harry's gaze met Ginny, who silently mimed being sick in the direction of her brother. Harry suppressed a laugh. Then he was struck with the thought that a few weeks ago it has been he and Ginny who were the sickening couple. Ginny seemed to read his mind, and she blushed. Instead of turning away though, she fixed her gaze on him and said,_

'_What are _you_ going to do next year, Harry?'_

_Everyone became silent, not quite meeting his gaze. He knew what they were thinking, because he was thinking it too. Would he even survive to be here in a year's time?_

'_Harry's going to be an Auror, aren't you, Harry?' Ron finally announced, proudly._

'_Well, I don't … I mean, I'd need really good N.E.W.Ts … I'm not sure yet,' Harry stammered feebly._

'_You'll do it, Harry,' Ginny told him softly._

In his study, Harry gazed out at the rain and felt a chill running up and down his spine. He and his friends had all had dreams. Some of them had come true. Others had been cut short. It was not fair. Not fair at all.


	2. Chapter 2

Ginny Weasley stepped out of the shower and winced as her feet hit the chilly floor. Shivering, she groped for the towel that was draped over the radiator, and sighed gratefully as she cocooned herself in its warmth. In the two months she had lived in her little flat, she had still not managed to get the heating working. Even Ginny's father, who was very handy at repairing charms, could not come up with a spell to fix it. Whether it was cold outside or scorching, the flat remained bone-chillingly cold. It was no wonder her landlord had agreed such a reasonable rate for the place. Ginny was convinced the flat was cursed. Surely only dark magic could cause somewhere to be so cold in mid-August?

Ginny padded across to the steamy mirror and wiped away a circle of fog. For several long seconds Ginny peered at herself until her reflection was no longer face, but a jumble of features. This was a game Ginny liked to play when she was nervous; she would stare at her image until it no longer made sense and then she felt like she could see past her face, past her damp red hair, past her freckles, into her mind – her innermost thoughts – and envisage what it was she was really worried about it.

Usually she could spend a long time doing this, but tonight it was far too cold to stare at the mirror for very long, so Ginny shook herself out of the trance and reached for her toothbrush. It did not matter: this time the answer did not need such probing efforts. Tonight was a night Ginny had looked forward to with such longing, such hope, but at the same time, such paralysing dread.

Ginny's first instinct upon receiving the invitation had been to stay as far away from the reunion as possible. As she read the words on the parchment, she began to feel slightly light-headed. Images swam in front of her, of walking into Hogwarts again after all these years away from the place; of seeing people she had not been able to bring herself to contact in so long that she had trouble remembering the sound of their voices, or picturing the detail of their faces. Ginny felt tears prickling at the back of her eyes as she tried to envisage Neville's shy smile; or the dreamy expression Luna wore when she was listening to you intently; or the way Harry's hair fell across his forehead, the way he would absently push it messily out of his eyes, only for it to flop back into exactly the same place; the way his luminous green eyes lit up when he laughed at Ginny's jokes …

At that point, Ginny had choked back a tiny sob and immediately buried the invitation at the bottom of a drawer; she had not let herself think about it for almost two weeks. Ginny realised that with her skill of suppressing her thoughts to the point where they were hidden even from herself, she would probably make an excellent occlumens; though she mused ruefully that she would probably never have the chance to test out that theory – no one would be particularly interested in trying to penetrate her thoughts. Still, it was a useful skill, even if it was only to keep her memories from occupying her thoughts. And Ginny certainly had enough sad memories to keep buried in her subconscious.

In fact, it had not been hard at all hard to forget about the invitation, since it had been the busiest month Ginny had had since taking up a job at the _Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes_ flagship store in Diagon Alley six months ago. It was now one of six branches around the country (including one in Hogsmeade) and Fred and George were looking at branching out into premises outside the UK. In preparation for students returning to school at the end of the month, Fred and George had upped production three-fold, including the introduction of dozens of new products, and so the staff in every branch were working flat out to organise all the new stock. But Ginny had to admit, working for them was ten times more fun than any of the numerous jobs she had flitted through since school. If only she had taken up their offer of employment sooner. Now George was even hinting that they might make her the branch manager if she played her cards right. They really did like to keep the business in the family.

Then a week ago, a tiny voice in Ginny's mind began to ask, 'What if I _did_ go to the reunion?' The voice was persistent, and Ginny was surprised when she started to realise that she no longer wanted to ignore it. She even found herself mentally picking out which robes to wear – not that she had much of a choice – and imagining chatting and laughing with her friends the way they had done when they were still at school.

_Things are not the same anymore_, she reminded herself firmly.

_But who says they can't be?_ the optimist in her argued defiantly.

Even just that morning, her official line had been that she was not going – she even had told her brothers that when they pestered her about it at work. But now, a week later, Ginny found herself warily preparing for the night in question.

A hammering on the bathroom door brought Ginny back to her senses and she realised she had been staring blindly into the mirror again.

'Ginny, I hope you're nearly finished in the shower!' came the shrill voice of Ginny's flatmate, Madeleine. 'I spent the whole afternoon cleaning out cages and I stink!'

Madeleine worked at the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley, and as such she often brought an assortment of smells back to the flat they had shared. It surprised Ginny that Madeleine would lower herself work in such a dirty environment - she seemed so girly and fussy. But a lot of things had surprised Ginny about her new friend.

When Ginny had told her family that she was looking for a place of her own (and not a moment too soon – she was beginning to feel suffocated, living with her parents at the age of twenty-two), her brother Bill had told her that a friend of Fleur's was about to move to London and was in need of somewhere to live. Ginny was dubious – she had never got on terribly well with her sister-in-law, and was horrified at the thought of having to live with someone just like Fleur. When Ginny and Madeleine were first introduced, Ginny's heart had sunk. Madeleine was tall and willowy with very stylish short blonde hair, and Ginny was convinced she would be a smug, vain airhead with whom she would have nothing in common.

Ginny had soon discovered that Madeleine was nothing like Fleur Delacour. The first clue, as they sat in the pub on the first night Ginny met her, had been when Fleur ordered herself a mineral water and Madeleine asked for a Firewhisky. Ginny had almost done a double take. The remainder of the evening had passed in a slightly tipsy, giggly blur, as Ginny and Madeleine chatted like old friends. Once or twice Ginny thought she heard Fleur mutter something like 'not very lady-like' but she was very chuffed when she heard Bill tell Fleur to 'loosen up'. By the end of the evening Ginny was utterly convinced that Madeleine was someone she could happily share a flat with, and a week later they had found their freezing, dripping, peeling, beautiful flat. Madeleine was a lot like Ginny in that she had drifted through jobs since school with no real ambition or a career in mind. But unlike Ginny, who always thought her real career was just around the corner if she could just get up the effort to look for it, Madeleine seemed perfectly happy with that sort of existence, whether she was selling self-cleaning cauldrons door-to-door or cleaning out owl cages.

'Honestly, I think I'd still get this dirty if I cleaned them out by hand instead of using a wand!' Madeleine continued as Ginny came out of the bathroom. Ten minutes later when Madeleine emerged in a cloud of steam, she eyed Ginny knowingly.

'I knew it! You're in your dress robes. You're going to this thing at Hogwarts after all, aren't you?' Madeleine said accusingly, but her eyes sparkled with excitement.

'No. Maybe. I still haven't decided,' Ginny murmured.

'Oh you're going,' Madeleine assured her.

'I don't know!' Ginny whined. 'I'm scared of walking in alone. What if none of my friends talk to me?'

'Well that's a ridiculous thing to say, of course they will!' Madeleine rolled her eyes.

'I'd feel better if I had someone to come with me,' Ginny hinted, raising her eyebrows.

'Go to a Hogwarts reunion …?' Madeleine mused, looking thoughtful. 'Free dinner … free drinks … and I'll get to meet those twin brothers of yours who sound so much fun? Sure! Sounds great!'


	3. Chapter 3

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stood proudly atop a cliff, its numerous turrets jutting into the night sky. Tonight, the towers were lit up with dozens of twinkling lights, outlining the school's impressive silhouette.

On the ground, a steady stream of figures alighted from carriages and made their way up the stone steps into the Entrance Hall. Many guests had chosen to apparate to Hogsmeade and travel in style from the small village to Hogwarts, just as they had done in their school days.

Inside Hogwarts, the Entrance Hall buzzed with excited chatter as a procession of guests alighted from a fireplace, the school having been connected to the floo network for the occasion. A number of witches and wizards congregated, laughing and shaking hands, in the Entrance hall, while others were making their way excitedly through a grand set of doors into the Great Hall. Many exclamations of 'Oh my! It looks exactly the same!' as well as 'Look, this was where Olive Hornby and I accidentally set fire to the curtains!' rang out as people crossed the threshold into the familiar room.

It was barely seven-fifteen, but the Great Hall was already filling up with wizards and witches in colourful dress robes. Hordes of tiny house elves were winding through the crowds, weighed down with enormous trays of butter beer, mead and pumpkin juice.

A young witch with a lot of bushy brown hair, looking slightly out of place in a black muggle cocktail dress, peered into the Great Hall, her heart thumping in anticipation as she searched the crowds for a familiar face.

'Hermione Granger!'

Two identical young men with fiery red hair charged through the crowd towards their old friend. One of them grabbed her round the waist, lifting her up in a tight hug and swinging her round.

'George! Put me down!' Hermione shrieked, laughing. George set her down and both he and his twin, Fred, enveloped her in their arms.

'Well at least you can still tell us apart!' George laughed, ruffling Hermione's long curly hair.

'It's so great to see you again, Hermione!' Fred exclaimed standing back and looking at her.

'And both of you as well! It's been _months_ since I've seen you,' Hermione said, beaming. 'And actually, it's Hermione Davidson, now,' she added coyly.

'That's right!' George exclaimed. 'You married the muggle!'

An anxious-looking man hovered behind Hermione, his smart dark suit standing out in the sea of robes. He was tall, with dark curly hair, and from the expression on his face it seemed as though he might like to borrow an invisibility cloak from somebody.

Hermione took his hand.

'Fred, George, I'd like to introduce my husband, Paul Davidson,' she announced, her cheeks turning pink with a combination of embarrassment and pride.

'Great to meet you, mate,' Fred and George said in unison, shaking his hand warmly and clapping him on the back. Paul smiled politely, stammering a little.

'Yes, yes, of course, I've heard all about you! It's, ah, it's wonderful to meet you,' he replied timidly.

'Bet you were terrified of coming here tonight,' one of the twins teased him, grinning as Paul shook his head, protesting. 'Don't worry, you aren't the only muggle that's been dragged along!'

Glancing around, Hermione noted that George was right. Dotted around the hall, the muggles were easy to spot as they looked about in awe at the floating candles and the bewitched ceiling. A plump middle-aged woman in a turquoise trouser suit, who was almost clinging to her husband's robes, let out a small shriek as the Bloody Baron sailed through her. Hermione shuddered, remembering how shocking the icy sensation of a ghost passing through you was, even when you knew what to expect.

'Third one of these reunions I've been to, and I still never know what to expect!' the muggle nervously confessed to a nearby witch, who merely laughed and swept past her.

Hermione gazed at her surroundings and marvelled at how much bigger the hall was than she remembered it. She rolled her eyes at herself when she realised it must have been magically expanded to accommodate several generations of Hogwarts students. Hermione realised she must be getting too accustomed to living within the limitations of the muggle world.

She helped herself to two glasses of pumpkin juice from a passing tray, and handed one to her husband, who sniffed it nervously. She stifled a giggle as Paul took a sip and tried to suppress a gag.

'I suppose it's, er, an _acquired _taste,' he joked nervously.

Hermione was so pleased that Paul had agreed to come along to this reunion. She knew he was still getting over the shock that his new wife was a witch, and she hoped this would not make him feel like he was in over his head. She was thankful that Fred and George, as the first of her old friends to greet him, were not being quite as hyperactive as she knew they could be. She listened for a moment as Paul struggled to explain to Fred exactly what a mechanical engineer, his profession, was.

'Who else is here?' Hermione took the opportunity to ask George while Fred chatted animatedly to her husband. 'Has Harry arrived yet?' George shook his head.

'Haven't seen him yet,' he replied

'And Ginny?' Hermione enquired tensely.

'Not yet. To be honest, I'm not sure whether she will actually come,' George confided. Hermione's stomach flipped at his answer, but she was not sure whether it was relief or regret she felt.

'How is she doing?' she asked quietly.

'Good,' George replied earnestly. 'Better than she was. She's working for us now, she seems to love it. And she moved out of Mum and Dad's.'

'Oh, that's good,' Hermione nodded, lost in thought. Despite what had transpired between she and Ginny in the past, it had upset her to hear that her old friend had been unhappy the past few years, cutting herself off from the world, flitting from job to job, unable to settle.

George seemed to read her thoughts.

'I'm sure she'll be happy to see you. If she turns up,' he said kindly. Hermione smiled, but she was not entirely convinced.

After a few moments of silence, Hermione took a deep breath.

'It feels so wrong. You know. Ron not being here,' she said timidly, voicing what she knew they had been avoiding mentioning. George swallowed and put his hand on her shoulder.

'It _is _ wrong,' he agreed softly. 'Things are just not the same.'

'No.'

Hermione's eyes filled with tears as the night of Ron's death flooded into her memory. It was so cruel, so unfair. Voldemort had just been killed and almost all of his followers were either dead or captured. Hermione and her friends all thought they were safe, thought they had won. Harry had survived his battle with Voldemort. The worst was supposed to be over.

Hermione swallowed hard as she recalled how she had become separated from Ron and Harry just after the battle, and before she could find them, she had found herself cornered by one of the only remaining Death Eaters.

_ 'Expelliarmus!' Hermione yelled, but she was too late and it was her own wand which was whipped from her hand._

_Bellatrix Lestrange rounded on Hermione, her eyes gleaming, her expression crazed._

'_You don't scare me,' Hermione announced, though her heart was pounding and she thought she might faint. 'My friends will be here any second. You've got no one left on your side, you might as well give up.'_

'_You silly little girl!' Bellatrix shrieked, brandishing her wand. Hermione fought the urge to cower, and looked her defiantly in the eye as the black-haired woman continued. 'Do you know how many wizards I have killed? Wizards ten times more powerful than you! Even your so-called Aurors cannot touch me!' Bellatrix screamed._

'_They caught you once! And they will catch you again, and then you can rot in Azkaban for the rest of your pathetic life!' Hermione cried. 'Voldemort is dead, you have nothing left!'_

_Instead of screaming this time, Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. Pointing her wand at Hermione, she calmly uttered a spell._

'_Crucio.' _

_Pain coursed through Hermione's body, agony like she had never felt before. She could not see, she could not even tell whether she was standing up or lying down. In the distance she could hear awful, awful screaming. Afterwards, she realised it must have been her own._

_The pain stopped as abruptly as it had started. Hermione felt the cold ground against her cheek and hands. Shaking uncontrollably, she struggled to sit up. Ron's face swam in front of her._

'_Hermione. It's me, Ron. You're going to be okay,' he said, taking her hand._

_Lestrange's body was lying motionless behind Ron._

'_Is she…?'_

'_Dead? No, I just stupefied her,' Ron replied. He helped Hermione to her feet, and they hugged tightly. _

'_Oh, Ron! I thought I was going to die,' Hermione gasped._

'_I thought you were, too,' Ron replied, stroking her hair._

'_You are now,' came a deadly voice. Hermione and Ron sprang apart, and Hermione was horrified to see Bellatrix standing before them, her wand trained on Hermione._

_She did not even hear the curse Bellatrix uttered. In a blur of movement, Ron was pushing Hermione to the ground. As she fell, Hermione saw the slashing motion of Bellatrix's wand and a green flash of light. Hermione landed hard, Ron on top of her. She could hear the grating sound of Bellatrix's sick laugher. Then footsteps thundering, voices shouting, and Bellatrix's laughter turning into a scream. Then silence._

_Hermione struggled to catch her breath beneath the heavy weight._

'_Ron?' Hermione whispered. 'Ron, you're crushing me.'_

_Ron was silent, unmoving. Faces appeared above her. Harry, Ginny, Lupin. All wore the same expression of terror. Lupin gingerly rolled Ron over. Hermione struggled to sit up, and knelt at Ron's side._

'_Ron?' she whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. Lupin bent over Ron, checking for a pulse. Behind him, Ginny started to sob._

'_Ron! It's Hermione, can you hear me?' she asked, more forcefully._

'_Hermione,' Lupin said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. The cold realisation swept through her, and suddenly she could not breathe._

'_No, no, no!' Hermione cried. 'Ron, please!'_

'_He's gone, Hermione,' said Lupin hoarsely. 'I'm so sorry.'_

_Harry seemed to be fighting back tears as he hugged a distraught Ginny, but Hermione felt numb.  
_

Hermione fought back her tears, and pushed the memory from her mind. She was determined not to cry this early in the evening.

'Wouldn't Ron have hated a night like this?' she said, smiling fondly.

'Yep. Dress robes, dancing … Ron's worst nightmare!' George laughed. 'Here, Fred, remember that time Ron had to dance with old McGonagall?' George called to his twin.

Fred looked up swiftly, his face momentarily showing his pain at the memory of the younger brother he had lost. His expression quickly changed to a weak smile.

'That's right! We never let him forget that one.' Fred's grin grew stronger. 'The look on his face when McGonagall told him to put his hand on her waist!'

'That's _Professor_ McGonagall to you, Mr. Weasley,' a stern voice chided.

Fred whipped round to face the elderly head mistress. Professor McGonagall, leaning heavily on a walking stick, looked a lot frailer and had a lot more grey in her hair than Hermione remembered.

'Ah, Professor, you're not going to take ten points from Gryffindor are you?' Fred cheekily goaded her.

Professor McGonagall tried to appear unamused, but her face quickly softened into a fond smile.

'Not this time, Mr. Weasley,' she said kindly, as Fred and George both leant down in turn to hug their old professor.

'And Miss Granger! It's wonderful to see you. Or should I say, Mrs Davidson,' Professor McGonagall warmly embraced Hermione, and shook hands with Paul, who looked slightly more at ease with this introduction.

'Actually, she's exactly like my old Maths teacher from school,' he confided to Hermione later.

Hermione chatted with the Weasley brothers a few minutes longer, enquiring after their parents.

'Are they here tonight?' she asked. She noticed a quick, tense look between the twins.

'No, Mum wasn't really up to it,' Fred replied.

Molly Weasley had been one of the many casualties of the final, horrendous year battling Voldemort. For weeks afterwards she had lain in St Mungo's, hovering between life and death, before eventually pulling through, though she was permanently wounded. These days she was practically housebound. That coupled with Ron's death had been a horrific blow for the Weasley family, and Hermione wished she could have helped more. However, as much as she had tried to keep in touch with them all and visit as much as possible, she found that they were not altogether receptive to her new life. Ginny had been avoiding her ever since Ron's death, and Mr and Mrs Weasley seemed to pick up on that, sensing something was not right, and treating Hermione less and less like a daughter the way they used to. When she began her relationship with Paul she could sense their disapproval and gradually lost contact with all of them apart from the odd letter from Fred and George, who did not even attend her wedding.

Hermione made her way around the Great Hall, stopping to talk to dozens and dozens of old faces and marvelling at how much emotion it was possible to feel in the space of half an hour. Several times tears threatened to roll down her cheeks, whether from laughter or from sadness. She talked to Neville Longbottom for a long time and was unable to believe they had lost touch. Neville had been badly injured during their seventh year in a duel with several Death Eaters and he still walked with a limp, his face lined with deep scars. Hermione was amazed and delighted to find that he was now married to Hannah Abbott, another of her classmates that she had lost touch with, and even more amazed that she had never noticed how perfectly suited the pair were. Both had lost parents to Voldemort and his followers, both were shy, kind and hard-working, both shared a passion for Herbology. Neville confided that he had been offered the position of Herbology teacher at Hogwarts, but was reluctant to leave the business he and Hannah had built, producing magical potions from rare plants.

Talking to Neville brought a lot of laughter and cheer, but also an immense sadness. One of Neville's closest friends had been Luna Lovegood, who had been killed during the final year of school. Luna, Neville and several others from Dumbledore's Army had joined Harry, Ron and Hermione at one point during a quest for a particular Horcrux, and Luna had given her life, before anyone could stop her, in order that the Horcrux be destroyed. They had all been devastated, and no one more than Neville, who had found something of a kindred spirit in Luna. Both had been slight outcasts and had appreciated each other's friendship in a way Hermione knew no one else could understand.

As Hermione and Neville reminisced about happy times and sad times, a sudden grin spread across Neville's face as he stared at a point over Hermione's shoulder and began to wave enthusiastically. Hermione turned curiously and her heart leapt.

'HARRY!'

Neville and Hermione both ran at their friend and they all embraced in an extremely tight, three way hug. The moment they broke apart, all three began chattering at once, exclaiming about how long it had been since they saw each other and shouting about how different they looked. Hermione realised that although she and Harry wrote frequently, it had been over six months since they last saw each other, at her and Paul's wedding. Harry had been the only one from school to attend.

Suddenly, as the three friends emerged from their cocoon of reminiscing, Hermione became aware of an intimidatingly beautiful girl standing slightly behind Harry. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, and after looking back at her questioningly for a second, he seemed to remember the girl was there, quickly took the her hand, and she stepped forward.

'Er, this is Kate. She was a few years above us at school. She's a Healer at St Mungo's,' Harry rattled off quickly, shyly, in that matter-of-fact way he had always had.

'Wow, it's lovely to meet you, Kate,' Hermione exclaimed warmly, shaking the girl's hand. She was immensely curious: Harry had never mentioned Kate before. She gave him another questioning look and he shrugged uncomfortably. _Typical Harry_.

Harry, Neville and Hermione continued to chat for several minutes, Hermione regularly trying to include Kate in the conversation, though she seemed happy to listen quietly.

It was close to eight o'clock when Kate disappeared to speak to her own classmates and Harry left them to track down Tonks and Remus Lupin, who were now married with two young sons they had named James and Sirius. Hermione was dying to speak to them too, but she could tell Paul was beginning to feel overwhelmed and decided to lead him to a quiet seat at the extra-long Gryffindor table, ready for dinner. As Hermione and her husband chatted quietly and Hermione pointed out more people she knew, she had to do a double-take as a familiar figure appeared at the doorway to the Great Hall. A mane of red hair, a pale, freckled face and an uncomfortable stance in her green dress robes.

Hermione could not believe Ginny had turned up.


End file.
